Pit of Vipers
by Lonely Little Creeper
Summary: Grell is forced to live like a human after returning to her massacring as punishment. How much can she take before she snaps? /Language and suggested mature themes, OC's to help plotline occasionally. R & R please! /Discontinued until at least 5 reviews/
1. Chapter 1

She was so sweet, even with a blistered mouth and that beautiful shade smeared across her neck and cheek. I wanted to take my time, to let her feel each tightening on the binding across her wrists, each hit across her frightened little face. But I couldn't take too long, knowing that irresistible demon was on my case with that rotten child of his. My client sighed behind me, an impatient sigh. "Would you hurry? I haven't all day."

My lip slightly upturned at the corner, not much of a smile, but more of a dangerous smirk. "My lady, your irritating grumbles are getting bothersome." I stood, turning to look at the dark figure that waited behind me. When she said nothing more, I hmphed and turned back to the young prostitute in front of me. My torturous mood was over from Madam's interruption, and I simply stepped aside. "She's not of any importance. No lady parts." I pulling the gag from the young one's mouth, and turned to the wall as my client took over.

I listened to her choked screams as the slicing of flesh turned to the background, only looking back to watch the gorgeous silky red spill across the floor. I watched unblinkingly, cocking my head slightly as I watched. "Enough." My voice was simple yet commanding, pinching out the candles with my fingers. I rolled my eyes slightly as a whine arose from her. "Oh, wah." I placed my hands on my hips. "What are you, five?"

My client, Angelina, scowled at me. "It's not like _you _did any of the work." A snort came from me in turn.

"Work by yourself then, bitch." I murmured under my breath. It wasn't like I needed her anyways, considering she knew nothing about me other than I was a good seducer for her own needs. She went on to protest, but I waved her off with my hand as I opened the door. I wasn't going to listen to her whining anymore than I was going to stay.

"Oh, Grell! I didn't mean it!" Angelina called, her shoes clacking against the cobblestone as she tried to catch up with my strides. Only a glance was given to her, more or less the fact that I couldn't care if she didn't like me. She didn't have to; I did her duties one way or another because she was lazy, and I didn't mind it, That is, as long as I got to even be near that gorgeous Hell dweller.

Sebas was perfect in every way – Well I should say, Sebastian now, I suppose – and even if he didn't love me, I sure as hell loved him. He always was there, even if it was to bloody my face or throw me out of the brat's mansion. I mean, that's some kind of affection, right? I've only seen him blush once or twice at my remarks, though, because he usually would respond with just a scowl or another witty comment back. Most times I would stumble home and go to bed, only to be up for hours to think of me and him together. His lips, his eyes, his _body._ I wanted it all, for myself.

"Grell, please!" Angelina pulled on the sleeve of my shirt. In a fluent moment I smacked her hands away.

"I'm leaving."

"You can't leave! I haven't a carriage!"

I grinned cutely at her, my sharpened teeth gleaming in the full moon. "Even better." I turned away from her as I took a few steps and leaped upon the roof of the low building. I hitched my precious baby on my shoulder and held the handle with one hand as I skipped over rooftops effortlessly, not once tripping. I enjoyed being graceful and careless like this, only something I felt when I was by myself in a situation like this.

I got home in no time, only a small apartment. It wasn't like I needed much anyways, just a bed and a place for my clothes and makeup. I shut the door behind me, kicking my shoes off into their own place beside the door. I strutted down to my room, and didn't bother changing into anything important. I slithered into the covers, taking off my glasses so I didn't accidentally roll over them and break it.

I closed my eyes, slowing my breathing a little. All I could think of was my demon, my Romeo to the Juliet (Who was me, obviously! Who else could play such a sexily daring character and get away with it?). All I wanted was his lips to brush mine, to feel his fingers on my hips and in my hair...


	2. Chapter 2

/**Sorry for not updating sooner. I'll try to stay with this one, review please! -AN /**

The morning was dreadfully slow as always, with me making coffee and reading a newspaper as I drank it slowly in the apartment lobby. Every morning was like this. Uneventful.

I finally showed to work. I was expecting to be called down by my favorite reaper and be yelled at for hours (Which I was happy about, because then _I _wouldn't have to do work. I usually urged him to go on for as long as I could make him) . But today, my mailbox was empty. A small frown crept across my face, but nonetheless I went up to my office to sit and do nothing like usual.

The day was slow like the morning was: Boring.

I ended up leaving for my lunch break, a small cafe called Crimson Frog. It was a nice place, it smelled sweet of peppermint and cinnamon, if I came at the right time. Their sweets and pastries were always good and filling too, if I was hungry enough. Lunchtime was usually my time to examine those gorgeous men who walked in and out of the cafe on their lunchbreak too. Not many of them where both good looking with a decent body, but when it came down to it I always ended up handing my phone number out to a few. Not like I'd be called, but it was always worth a shot.

I decided to make up for taking an extra hour for my lunch break by bringing in assorted pastries, doughnuts and cream puffs with the powdered sugar on top, tarts and raspberry topped cheese-cake cups, and of course for my own liking, a bottle of cheap champagne. Of course I wouldn't be showing William or anyone other than myself and maybe a few trusted the champagne. That was a stupid idea, considering that he already knew what I had done a few nights ago.

I never felt guilty hiding secrets. I loved secrets, keeping them as my own and not letting anyone else have them. It was like having a huge party by yourself, knowing dirt on who fucked who and who had been arrested and things of such. And if someone knew a secret of me, I wanted them to tell it. Because truthfully, I knew more about them than they knew of themselves. I could ruin someone so easily; Everyone in this damn office knew it too. There was an employee that decided it would be a great idea to get me alone and try to seduce me in a cloak closet. So naturally I told everyone he raped me. It wasn't a complete lie.

He was sentenced to death row when the court hearing was over.

When I got back to the office, Ronnie and a few other of my subordinates jumped right in to the sweets and coffee I had brought. It was like a small little party, without the booze and liquor obviously. I talked and laughed with them meaninglessly, and I kept feeling for the bottle in my coat pocket. It wasn't as gorgeous as Angelina's, only fitting and simple compared to hers. I wanted the coat so badly sometimes, I would even go as far as planning to kill her for it. That would surely send the brat and the handsome demon after me, and the thought of it made me shiver in pleasure.

Work was over in the next three hours. I left early of course, because I had my client to take care of. She was bitchy when I didn't arrive on time or even early, so I wasn't going to take my chances. After I met up with her, she told me she picked out another strip club to pick up another prostitute or so. She wanted so much done in so little time.

I loved her though. Not in the "I want her to bear my children" way, but more of the "She does everything I tell her to because she's scared of death" way (If that even is a way itself). She would get whiny every so often, but it wasn't anything I couldn't handle. She wanted something done, and as her 'butler' (which is what every human thought I was to her) I was to do it, even if I wasn't tied down to her. I liked killing those horrid hookers who had sex for fun, taking everything for granted, and so did she. With her little operation and all, she had become so cruel, so unmerciful. And I liked her that way.

This night was different though, because the name I – we – had taken on, Jack the Ripper, had gotten into the paper and now the Queen was going to try and stop me. Well, not really her, more or less her 'guarddog' who was merely another short and small tempered obstacle for me to overcome in another cloudy night of me doing what I liked best.

It was that damned demon I was worried about. He was probably in the streets waiting for me and Angelina to make a move. I was playing a dangerous game, and I knew it too – If this hooker screamed as a blade was taken to her neck and then her waist, then he would definitely find me and the aunt. If she didn't, he would still find me and try to take me back to William to have him deal with me.

Nonetheless, I took the chance, and I lost. The fucker screamed, and she struggled too, and Angelina messed up. Instead of taking her lady parts, she ended up chopping her into pieces. "What are you, a fucking klutz?!" I hissed at her. She mumbled apologies but I rolled my eyes and turned away from her. I changed back into the helpless butler attire that Ciel had always seen me wore when his Aunt visited, dragging me with. I didn't mind though, Sebastian treated me like a human, and my real self was concealed.

I heard the door open, and I saw the small figure in the door. The taller of the two pulled him back away from the door, and a small retch was heard as well as a liquid splattering on the cobblestone. I realized I was soaked in the poor girl's blood, and a story was made up immediately. I stepped out, missing the freedom my hair had when it wasn't strung up in ribbon.

"It wasn't me, I promise!" My butler voice filled the silence. "I heard the scream too, and I came to see... It was too late, I tried to fix her.." I watched Sebastian's face. He was covering Ciel's eyes with a gloved hand.

"You can't trick anyone anymore. I've seen plenty of you in my lifetime, but yet to see servant attire!" Sebastian said. His voice made me shiver in love of his silky and smooth mouth.

"I don't understand." I said, but I looked at the floor, and a grin crept to my face. I laughed, pulling the ribbon out of my hair and the gloves from my hands. I ran my hand through my hair, and pulled up my real glasses onto my face. I placed one hand on my hip, the other on my precious reaping weapon – my chainsaw.

"Oh Sebas-chan. You read me too well!" I glanced at Ciel as he pulled Sebastian's hand from his own face. The cheeky smile stayed on my face.

"Well? What the hell is going on?" The brat's voice snapped.

Sebastian was the one to answer. "My lord, this is Grell Sutcliff, the _real _Grell Sutcliff. He's a _shinigami._"


	3. Chapter 3

"My lord, this is Grell Sutcliff, the ___real _Grell Sutcliff. He's a ___shinigami._"

A slighted smirk passed my face. "Oh darling, you speak of me as trash! I'm nothing less than a raging lover, a spark of dazzling comet in the darkest night!" I leaned onto my chainsaw, drawing a line with my pinkie finger across the blade. A small prick drew blood on it, and I softly licked the small cut from blood.

"Who else is with you? " the brat demanded, and I only skimmed over his noble appearance before answering. Well, I didn't answer.

"It's a dangerous game with the adults, _nephew._" Angelina said, stepping from the doorway. I rolled my eyes a little. "Why don't you go to bed and let us talk?" Ciel looked up at Sebastian, almost confused. Only almost.

"You see, Madam, you were one of the only suspects we had left. Someone with an alibi, someone that was with you all the time. The skill was only too much for a nurse singlehandedly, so naturally we turned to the closest supernatural to you." Sebastian said bluntly. A laugh came from my mouth.

"Oh, and now? Ooh, you caught me, how dreadful!" I giggled. "You know, Phantomhive, you remind me of my favorite flowers. _Pansies._" The brat scowled at me, and I giggled sweetly. "Alright, alright, fun time over!" I pulled my precious up into both hands.

"You see Sebas-chan, my skills are a little, _rusty_ from a lack of worthy opponent. Perhaps we can play a little game, hm? Tag, perhaps?" I cheekily smiled, and I pulled the cord. My weapon revved to life, the blade spinning. "Weaponless you against an armed me, Ha! What a statistic!" I grinned, and stepped forward. I would have hit my soul target, the brat, if Sebastian didn't push him out of the way.

A 'hmph' of disappointment filled me. I pushed the hair behind my ear, Phantomhive saying something about how "Not to let me go" or something. I only advanced to my new target, my gorgeous demon, and each time I would make a lunge or movement toward him he would back away. He was good, I'd admit.

Minute after minute passed before I finally plunged my chainsaw into the area of the wall next to Sebas-chan's head. I cutely grinned, listening to Madam deal with her stupid nephew. "What a decision now, hm? Let your master die or lose a limb!" I pulled the chainsaw down steadily, in line with his shoulder. A devious laugh left my mouth. "You're so much hotter when you're angry, Michaelis!"

The next movement surprised me. Sebastian took the chance and my precious cut into his shoulder. Not completely off, but pretty damn well deep. I had to stop her to pull her out of the stupid wall. I looked over, seeing Angelina confess her life story. I listened dreadfully as I kept pulling, and finally, my chainsaw pulled free. I revved her to life once more and I made one step, and pushed the chainsaw right through her petite little chest.

The horror that ran through Ciel's face made me laugh innerly, savoring every moment. I knew his story, I was the one to cut the strips of his parent's when they died as well, and to see the devestated look made me happy inside. And now, I even got what I wanted most out of the bitch.

I pulled my chainsaw back, and I watched the blood spill everywhere as I yanked the beautiful red coat from her body. I pulled it on over my own shoulders, happy with the feeling of triumph. Turning to leave, I stepped onto the trashcan to go over, about ready to go home. She was going to leave the two, not much in the mood anymore. I heard Ciel say, "Well? Did I fucking stutter? I said _Don't let them get away."_

Another smile came to my face. I turned around to look at the two. "You know, I was going to let you go. But if you insist." I pulled the cord to turn my baby on again. I hopped up in a few steps to the roof of the house. "I'll send you straight to Heaven, Sebas-chan! One way ticket!" I giggled.

Sebastian darkly smiled at me. "Heaven? I know of no such place." He was able to come to the roodtop in another step or so to meet my eye.

He was an amazing fighter. He looked like nothing, just scrawny and tiny, but really was the strength of tons. Each time I'd go for a swing, he would bat it away as nothing. But finally, I saw my hope. "Oh-ho-ho! Sebas-chan! You're giving up!" I grinned. I had given him a few good slices, and was watching him take his jacket off. If I learned anything, it was the sign of defeat.

But defeat wasn't going to be given. It was death, or at least agonizing pain. I gave an overhead swing, and I smiled at the sound of my baby purring. I closed my eyes on impact.

Only there was no impact, and my baby was silenced.

I opened them, the chainsaw falling from my hand and slowly down the roof, I scrambled to get it, seeing the fabric of Sebastian's overcoat stuck between the wedges of the blades. A frown followed, and I pulled at it, tugging harder and harder. I tried all different positions to pull, nothing worked.

"What the Fuck!" I cried in frustration. My chainsaw was kicked from my reach, and I was proceeded to have my ass handed to me. Each time he would hit my face (Which is very ungentlemanly of him!) or my shin, or someplace of equal pain. I was finally down on the cobblestone, looking up at him. My face was obviously bloodied and nonetheless a broken nose and probably a missing tooth or so. "No more!" I begged.

Sebastian tore the stuck overcoat out in one movement, and he pulled the cord to my chainsaw. "A _shinigami _can only be destroyed by his own scythe, yes?" He grinned smirkishly at me. A defeated whimper came from me as he swung her down to the direct center of my face, and I closed my eyes once again, scrunching my nose a little.

The sound of metal against metal rang out in my ears. I opened my eyes, looking at the long metal pole infront of my eyes. I trailed my eyes up to the equally gorgeous man that it belonged to.

"Excuse me." William said, hopping down gracefully. Sadly, he landly on my chest, and the wind was knocked out of me. "I normally do not apologize to demons of sorts, but I'm very sorry for... for _this._" His voice was exasperated, and very tired sounding. I couldn't make out what the two were talking about, my own head pounding from being repeatedly hit against stone or wood. All I know was Sebastian was smirking at me as William remorselessly tugged me along by my ruby red hair.

I whined the whole way, clutching my poor precious to my chest. _Tonight is going to be a long night. _


	4. Chapter 4

A slight wince came from my mouth as the dark-haired shinigami dabbed at my face, wiping off blood. Most nights ended like this; Me getting into trouble and he fixing it (probably as much as he didn't want to). He was silent, and his silence was louder than any yelling he could have done. I was quiet too, not ever looking directly at his fierce gaze.

"Sutcliff, I'm disappointed. No, beyond disappointed. I am _appalled._" William finally said. He was running his fingers over the chipped teeth to make sure nothing was too serious. "This isn't the first time a massacre has happened. Do you know how much work I need to do now, hm? Work that _**you refuse **_to do, adding on to paperwork for this number."

"Oh paper, shmaper. You know it'll end up like last time." I said, rolling my eyes. "We split a liquor and you end up drinking more than you want, and getting drunk and wanton and I have to fix it." I saw Will's jaw tightened slightly at my comment.

"Sutcliff." He said sternly, and I only shrugged. He stood, and his stiff posture showed to me that I had gotten to him. I ran a hand through my hand and stood up, moving to his desk. I sat on it, unbuttoning the first few buttons on the white undershirt I wore with the vest ontop, of which I took off in a swift movement.

"Well? What are we waiting for, hm?" I asked, leaning back on my hands on his desk. "A few quickies can get me out of this, right?" I slightly wiggled my hips.

"Grell Sutcliff!" William said sharply. "Get off of my desk this instant! I am _sick _of your _shit!" _I was more taken back by the sound of 'shit' coming from his mouth. "Obviously suspension methods don't work for such an incompetent worker such as yourself. Extreme punishment values must be taken." He shooed me off of his desk, rummaging through a few papers in the drawers.

I buttoned back up the vest and shirt in a little anger that my seduction hadn't worked as well as I had planned. I only watched, the papers glinting from his too clean glasses. Finally, he set out a pale yellow folders with only a few papers sticking out. "Sit." He commanded, and I did as told.

"So, what'cha gonna do?" I asked.

"Grell, you're turning over your position." Will said. I leaned back in my chair, crossing my arms.

"Oh, sending me back to school? So I can make all A's, huh, B-student?" I said lightly. Courses were easy, only a few weeks.

William shook his head. "No. No courses, no work. You're giving over your position as a reaper, as a shinigami. No longer do you have access or permission to kill humans, because as of a few minutes, _you'll be one._"


	5. Chapter 5

I stared blankly at him for a moment. William wrote a few more things down across what I assumed was my profile, which was full of papers and pieces of fabric and pictures that I assumed were evidence. "Oh, no no no no no. I can't!" I cried finally. "William, please don't!"

William only glanced at me, before dotting a few i's and crossing a few t's. "I'm sorry, Grell. There's no other way for you to behave." He wretched the scythe from my hand, gaining a whine from me. I begged the whole way that he guided me, down the hall and out the door. Each step I was forced to take was more painful than the last.

"You can have the blessing of remembering what you were, what you had been. But if you tell anyone?" William poked my chest, and I opened my mouth to protest. "Your cinematic records are next." And with that he left.

I had next to practically nothing. I had no job and very little money, no one to even turn to. If only I had kept my human friends close to hand than what I had before. And surely that brat wouldn't help me, even if I sold him my soul! How could William do this to me!

I walked, no trudged, home, or what I could call 'Home' for the next two weeks or so. Everything seemed so empty now, so barren, though nothing had been moved. I decided on what I would sell and what I wouldn't, if it got to that. 'Bare minimum' was going to take over, I knew, with little food and a change of clothes covering it.

The evening was slow, me cooking ramen and trying to enjoy the last bit of radio I could before I would have to give that up too. It didn't seem fair. So many times I had gotten away with things, it seemed a routine.

I would have to live like a human – Hell, I _am _a human! No more roof-hopping or pickpocketing, or mooching off of people claiming I'd pay them later. This time I had really fucked up, and this time William wasn't paying for it. I was.

/**AN: Sorry it was short, needed a transition! /**


	6. Chapter 6

_Normal_.

I opened my eyes about halfway, and then closed them again. I had something important to do and I was trying to remember.

It had been a month since the incident. I wasn't upset anymore. I felt nothing to the subject. I had been turned down over and over by people I knew. Ronald said William told him not to talk to me, and even my favorite embalmer didn't want a word, treating me as if I was another customer. It was if every one had forgotten. My own parents didn't want a word with me, probably angry that I had been kicked out of a job that was a lifestyle.

Somehow I couldn't find a person to blame it on. I tried blaming it on myself, but denial was too strong, stronger than any wine I had drank to douse the ache of reality. I couldn't get a grip on myself, really.

_Wait, job._

_You have a job now._

I tumbled out of bed, scrambling to the calender. Was it Monday already?

_Monday, August 13th_

A surprised gasp came from me as I rushed to get dressed. I had almost forgotten!

By the time my shift ended, I was already friends with everyone. Being a bartender was easy, and one at a big chain made good money (More or less because of the drunkies that wouldn't leave). I got to be around what I enjoyed, men looking for a good time and booze!

All I had to do was fill glasses or mugs. It wasn't really that hard, and I easily became a favorite among the recently divorced gentlemen. Even if I didn't have the curves of a woman, I knew how to flatter, and that was all it took for me to earn tips.

I had decided to try and find my life again.

I was enjoying my free drink at the end of my shift, close to 3 in the morning. Close to the bottom, I drained my glass, looking at the ceiling. "You by yourself?" Someone asked me.

I looked over. The voice belonged to a male, about 6 foot five, black hair and soft blue eyes. I admired for a breif moment before I nodded. "Yeah." The stranger sat.

"I'm Rhett. You filled my drinks." Rhett said. I slowly nodded with a slight smile.

"Well I serve a lot of people here." I said, brushing it off. "Could'a been any one of them, you know?

Rhett smiled and said, "You know, you're pretty beautiful." Compliments always flattered me. I could see right through him, all he wanted was a one night stand. It didn't matter though, at least someone was showing affection. Even when I was younger or boyfriend-searching I didn't get much one-nights or relationships. I guess I'm more of the 'best friend not girl friend' types.

"Thanks. You too." I said sweetly. The compliments went back and forth, exchanging drinks. Three AM turned to four and eventually five, and the bar turned into the alleys and into my bedroom. I couldn't stay off of him, each round making exhaust turn to lust and wanting of more. It was a relief, a small outlet from stress. I didn't care if he was a stranger, I didn't care if I was to die tomorrow; I was temporarily happy and that's all that I cared about.

I laid in bed beside him, both of us sweating and entwined under the sheets of my bed that draped across our stomachs. I pretended that he really loved me, that each bite and each touch meant something other than getting laid. I was getting pretty good at this, fooling myself into lies that I believed was the truth.

My hangover wasn't what woke me, but rather the empty bed that accompanied me before noon. I opened my eyes to the streaming sunlight, my hands gently wrapped around the bedsheet. Sadness was beginning to crawl over me, wrap me in its tight hold. Depression was a bitch.

"Mmm. Rhett."I whispered, turning over onto my other side, trying to imagine him there. I used the pillow as my Rhett, holding it close and burying my face into it. I closed my eyes again. I had promised myself not to be attached, and I wouldn't, hopefully.

Getting attached was a bitch, too.


	7. Chapter 7

Most of my days were a routine. Get up, go to work, come home (with or without a 'guest'). Repeat.

I didn't work on the weekends. I mean, unless I wanted to, and I usually did. Staying in the quiet apartment gave me time to think and be alone with my thoughts, and that was something that I wanted to avoid. I tried to stay away from my past as much as possible, but I always ended up reading newspaper obituaries and trying to think on who could have taken that one. I missed being a "middleman" to life and death. It was exciting to me, and now the only thing I had to be exciting was creating scenarios in my head where I would be mugged or something while walking.

It had been only a few weeks since I had started the bartender job. No longer was I behind the counter, but more of a waitress as well, checking on customers and flirting for tips. It was more work nowadays than before, because no longer did I wear my usual trousers to work, but a dress instead with a shawl over-top. I stuck mostly to cocktail dresses, which required me to keep my legs clean and blemish-free. The shorter the dress, the better tips. It was a painful reality to me when I would receive looks because of my gender (What my physical gender is anyways, I truly am a woman!), so I would never change in the rooms that were provided.

I had wilted like a summer flower in the fall, really. I tried to act alive and happy, but when I would settle down to enjoy a coffee or treat myself to a slice of Crimson Frog's French Silk Pie, I would find myself gently picking at it, not really eating or drinking, not enjoying myself. A mess is what I would become and I knew it, but I avoided it, dancing away from the cold claws of depression to busy myself in trying to make acquaintances. I scratched out the names of my former employers and subordinates in my phonebook to make room for people I met and men that had seen my bedroom before they had seen me on a date.

I went to festivals and carnivals, sometimes by myself and sometimes with others. I had dinner parties and luncheons, celebrated birthdays and baby showers. Every nightclub knew my face. I rented every book in the library labeled comedy. But I was never actually happy. I didn't know why. It was like I was _here _but I never felt like I was ever really here.

"This is what it must feel like to be a human." I sighed to myself, pulling the covers up over my head. I had stopped trying to be so gorgeous all the time, more or less because I had to take responsibility now for being late. Oh look at me, talking like a mature adult!

I had nothing to do, and it was boring.

So, I decided to pay my favorite handsome man a very special visit.

**/AN: Sorry It took a while. R & R please!/**


	8. Chapter 8

"Oh Sebas-chan!" I squealed, wrapping my knuckles against the kitchen door, peaking in. I knew what time the devilish man was in there, because he was never a minute late or early for breakfast, lunch, or dinner.

Now, let me just tell you a little something about Sebas-chan. He's absolutely a sex-god. I mean, I've never had sex with him (as much as I wanted to!) but I can only imagine what's under his clad suit that he puts on everyday to please that brat. If I was the one ordering him around, there'd be less talking and more doing, if you know what I mean. He's an opportunity that is just being wasted on a horrendous twelve year old, who does chores for an old hag that humans call Queen Victoria. Oh, wait. I'm a human now. Whoopsie!

I grinned and giggled at Sebas-chan as he sent a scowl at the screendoor, and I pushed open the door anyways. "Grell, what are you doing in here." He demanded.

"Oh, only to see you, lovie!" I chirped, running a hand through my hair. "Don't you miss me?" Sebas-chan opened his mouth to speak, and I knew I was going to be insulted, so I interrupted with, "Of course you do. You hate it when I leave, but love watching me walk away!" Sebas-chan sighed, and turned away.

"You're so ignorant." He said, pulling his sleeves up a bit more and fixing his arm garter. I huffed at him.

"Ignorant? I don't even know what that means and it sounds rude!" I crossed my arms and leaned against the counter.

After another infamous sigh and a rub of his temple, Sebas-chan said, "You're from the shallow end of the gene pool, right?" which ended him with a good smack in the back of the head and a retort.

"I'd like to see from your point of view, but I can't quite seem to get my head that far up my ass." I said bitterly, reaching for a potato slice that was out in the open.

"Well well well! What did you have this morning for breakfast, Grell? Bitch flakes?" Sebas-chan asked, looking over at me. I shrugged, nibbling on the slice.

"Bet you were up all night working on that one." I said after I swallowed the bite. Sebas-chan rolled his eyes, and ignore the comment thereafter.

"Grell, why are you even here? You never seek me out personally unless you need a favor." Sebas-chan said after a silent moment. I felt his eyes burn on my face as I reached for another potato slice, purposefully ignoring his gaze.

"No reason." I lied, taking another bite.

"You look different. Like you haven't slept in a while." Sebas-chan observed, studying me. There was an uncomfortable silence as he said, "You were demoted, weren't you?"

It took me a moment to nod my head slightly. I looked over at him finally. "Yeah. I'm not even a _shinigami _anymore." I confessed. I expected Sebas-chan to laugh or something, but instead, he gently patted my shoulder, which was as close to a hug as I was going to get.

"Sorry." Sebastian said, looking sympathetic. I shrugged like it was nothing, but I felt like crying.

"It's fine. Not your fault." I said, looking away and casually wiping my eyes. "I'd love to stay but, I gotta go. Shift starts soon." I lied. "Bye, Sebas-chan." I said, struggling to keep my voice steady.

"See you later, Grell."


	9. Chapter 9

_Prostitutes._

I hated the mere word for them.

All they did was strut around in high heels and more makeup on than face, flirting with every man they saw for an opportunity to shine bright. Most of them wanted to be starlets, but never got far enough in their money making without getting a disease or addicted to coke or something. It was a sad life to be a harlot, and I knew that, but I didn't let pity take over my feelings about them.

Honestly, I wish I could kill them all, wipe them off of the face of the Earth. As much as they were trying to make a living like the rest of us, some people were having a hard time finding a boyfriend. Why make the commitment to a girlfriend, who whined and bitched to have things and spend time together and cuddle, when you could pay a cheap whore a ha'penny for twenty minutes or so, which was enough time for any shallow fellow with that much desperation on his hands.

See, I was doing a good thing for London for participating in Madam's little games. I was ridding the world of promiscuous sluts, a filthy one at a time. It wasn't like anyone was missing them; most of them were immigrants, and the percent of the illegal ones was well over 50. If a man wants sex, then he can find a girl without using money, like the used to!

It killed me to watch them as I went on my way to work everyday. Every day, every time, the corners were riddled with them, fighting over which man lasted longer, or how much money would consider them 'expensive'. I no longer could kill them and have it considered my job, without it 'hanging over my head', so to speak. I hated it. As much as I loathed being a human, I vitrioled not killing the disgusting females that dared called themselves a lady.

But I was clever. You see, I knew how to hide. I knew what worked and didn't work; I wasn't stupid. I read people's life and death portfolios, and managed to have my dear embalmer lend me a few that were out of date. Humans did terrible, shameful, ungodly, abhorrent things, and very few were able to escape punishment from the other humans that made themselves believe that they were above all others, holy and possibly god in flesh. Those were the humans I liked.

And that was the human I wanted to become.


	10. Chapter 10

I couldn't be so bright anymore. I couldn't dress in my favorite color, or have long hair, or try to shine in the dim world of adults. It was a sad thing, but that's how it was. If I wanted to be who I was meant to be, to do what I wanted to do, what I was born to do, I could sacrifice a few things.

I got rid of my scarlet hair. I cut it off, down to my chin in a bob-like fashion, so it couldn't be grabbed and pulled like William had done so many times before. My head felt lighter, and it was easier to wash and brush the first dew times that I did before I dyed it a dark brunette. I personally hated it, but I didn't let it get to me too much. There was much to be done!

With my clothing style, I bought black clothing to replace my usual dresses or previous trousers and vest. I would only wear it at night when I was working at cleaning the world, but I kept the others. I planned on changing my shift to the day, preferably closer to the night shift for an easy transition.

As well as a new look, I needed a new name. No longer could I go by the name "Jack the Ripper" as the silly Englishmen called Madam and I, because it would raise suspicion amongst the silly Queen and the brat with his gorgeous butler would be after me again. And I'd be vulnerable, because I wasn't able to kill a demon as a human.

After a long while of thinking and looking things in the newspaper, I remembered my mother's name of 'Mary Ann'. It was a sensible name, and to me it had more hatred then love to the words.

See, I loved my mother for being my mother. But she pressed so hard for me to be myself, and seeing as I was _supposed _to have a sister, I felt it was my duty to try and become my own sister. She was lost during childbirth, poor thing, but life goes on when you live in Whitechapel. I never grew up rich, and I wasn't rich now, and I never will be. There was plenty of opportunity to have another child. But, my mother was always strung out on little things.

My father was an okay man. He would drink often and rarely be home, but he would never hit me like he did my mother. I don't think she deserved it, but I'll admit I felt like backhanding her quite a few times growing up. She was stubborn and hysteric, and that's not how women were supposed to be. After the loss of my supposed-to-be sister, my father left. It was just one day, he kissed me on the forehead and said he'd miss me as I trotted off to play, and I never saw him again. That is, until I had the pleasure of taking his life with my perfect scythe.

After my father left, my mother began to drink heavily. There wasn't a moment that she didn't smell like booze or wine, and she would always tell me how worthless I was. Which was, whatever, because I knew she was wrong and that I would make it farther than she could ever dream for herself. I wanted to be someone, not be a lowlifed alcoholic that mourned over the loss of something that wasn't meant to be. I was taken away from her when I was 15, and I hadn't seen her since till this very day. After that, I was moved from foster home to foster home until Lawerence Anderson took me away from my own Hell when I was 17. From then on, I went to school, and I used my pent-up anger to receive A-grades during training. Even though I didn't aspire to be a CEO or something, I was pretty damn good at my job.

But here I was, thinking of names in the dim of a candlelight to get back at William for cutting my job off. I don't think I was anything like my mother. Sure, I loved to drink, when I could afford it. And I didn't cry about my job. I was numb to it now, and I definitely wasn't low-life.

After a long period of time, I decided a name for myself, for the character that loved the smell of blood on their hands and a smile drew tight against her face.

Mary Ann Britland.


	11. SPECIAL UPDATE

_Botulinum on a white paper towel_

_Forcing the clumsy drivers in afoul_

_Brugmansia for the highest of Kings,_

_Poisons have become my favorite things_

_Inhaling Ricin, Injecting Curare_

_Antrax and Arsenic makes your children sway_

_Cyanide powder makes your body sting,_

_Poisons have become my favorite things_

_Hemlock at tea time with Nightshade canapes_

_Making all houseguests you hate just go away_

_Deterium Oxide; Who knows what that brings?_

_Poisons have become my favorite things_

_When the world bites_

_When the pain stings_

_When I'm feeling sad_

_I'll simply remember my poisoness things_

_And then I won't feel so bad!_

**((AN: I know it's not a chapter but it's something special for you guys for me not updating. Parody to 'Favorite Things" by Maria!))**

_. _


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